Текст песни B.G. - 6 Figure (featuring Hot Boys), слова песни B.G.

Текст песни B.G. - 6 Figure (featuring Hot Boys)

B.G. - 6 Figure (featuring Hot Boys) слова песни

Текст песни B.G. - 6 Figure (featuring Hot Boys)

It's me, the B.G., doin' my thangLettin' 'em hang, I represent bangity-bangI gettin' off into shit you can not handleI'm settin' it off in this bitch, thinkin' of scandals'Bout my paper, 5 figures and up with the red beamDealers and thugs on my team with many 14'sHittin' your home up, hittin' at everything movin'( )Lookin' and losin', startin' chaos and confusionI'm bruisin' your whole family, dress 'em up in dark colorsThen come to your funeral in two HummersThat's me, Baby Gangsta, spark in the dayCome out the funeral home, you get hit at walkin' awayI'm in to grow, legend with rights, I don't been enticedTo greab the K and let it spray, put an end to a nigga lifeMy nigga TD gettin' high wit' meOut that 13, straped up he ride or die wit' meI was in the 'Nolia, lookin' for that killa guerillaI know my nigga gangsta got it on wild willaUptown consist of drug dealers, and thugsFor the junkies got no loveIt's like this, play pussy you catch a slugDrug though the mud, once it's dead it's doneHand on my gun cause I don't give a muthafuckI'm a head buh-uh-busta, I never truh-uh-trust a bitchMake sure I gotta silent 4-5, if this nigga snitchGet me in the fix, and I can't snitch out the mixJust gimme tree lives, double them so I got sixAin't that some shit, wanna see me assed outta luckBet I ain't trippin', cause I don't give a muthatfuck[Lil' Wayne]I be catchin' a nigga corner, rippin' through a nigga streetHot Boys they ride with me, like a preist, five deepWindows tinted, clips extened, drum lettin'Bustin' lead 'n, real 'n, Hot Boy$ don't forget itLeave every porch wet 'n, brains all over the step 'nDisrespectin' the whole neighborhood block wettin'Step in, the section, uh-of the Hot Boy$Full of the 'dro, and ride and chop you whole spot boyBetter watch boy, where you be at cause I'm a hit at, three flatYou want beef, I'ma beef at, make it hot, I'ma crease thatCamoflauge to the 'Boks, pop off clips in the glocksMake sure all choppers cocked, start a quake, shake the whole blockTake the tip of the jo, kick down the front doorRun from front to back bustin', Terius cut his wife throatI'ma play it how it go, hold a black connect sho'We went to school for this, we spend bins like a proGo chill with the Joe, Say wodie let's get loadedBlow a pound with my round, 50 shot'll get me totedI'ma wet your bin, hit your house, unlock tenBoy you can't win I let chopper bullets spin[Turk]Don't fuck with bitch niggaz, 226 bout the realThem niggaz who paper chase, go in the dark and pack that stealYou ain't hear about the young thugs, The Hot Boys, that's who the areRun that shit blow for blow, hoes be bout catchin' that nutNigga don't think cause we young, we ain't ridin' or dyin' tooDown with black connection to the finish, we bout killin' niggaz tooSpend your bin quickly, make you suffer, die slowlyYou hit enough, I'm about to down, play the sceneryBig ol' Expedition's, do some dirt in it tonightFive choppers for who lost, kill a nigga, we just mightBitch niggaz get left flat, like a flat rat in the streetAbunch of young head spliters, like K.C. and B.G.Fuck the police, cause we spray them tooPop the cop or go down, cause we ain't down with that crewGet caught up in the crossfire, best believe It's All On U+Ohh, it ain't my fault+, I done what I had to doGive a fuck about no nigga, that nigga don't give a fuck about meAny chance he get he gon' take it, try to sweep me off my feetThat's why I keep my eyes wide, nigga cross that line they gon' dieLeave your families clueless, and questionin' why4-4 bull dogs bark loud, chopper moves crowdsInnocent bystanders watch out, them lil thugs act wild[B.G.]I'm a ride or die-er, smoke nothin' but that fire-yaKeep all my hoes cause I'm a liarNeighborhood uh-hotter that a toaster, ridin' MoMo's and I'll roast a deal what's on my old poster, if I pull it out my holsterYou sopposed'a, respect a nigga like meI'm gettin' closer and closer to the T-O-PI'm H-O-T, bitches say I'm a D-O-GI'm on surveilance all day be the S-P-D'sIn my heart I feel, fuck the policeCause in they hear they feel, fuck it, try to keep a nigga off the streetWho? Not I, nigga, the trillest B.G.Lots'a money, and the best attourney speak for meAnd I speak and represent for the U.P.T.I creep, and get bent with VL StreetI' slang heat, any day, noise I bringFeel I can't be bat any day, I'm a Hot Boy, I let 'em hangFar as they can, cause I'm a thug to the fullestPistol in my hand, trigga I pull it 'til there's no more bulletsI ain't the one to be repped onWho whole block get stepped onIf they outside, when I'm ride, I'ma ride 'til there's no more gasI'ma ride 'til I put you on your muthafuckin' backI'm in all black, behind the skuh-uh-skimaskIt ain't no way that you could lastI'm comin' like the task force, I blast with full forceI'm sorry if your grandparents on the porchThey All 'N[Juvenile]Even if I don't get no tallerI'ma always be a CMB baller, smokin' blunts in the hallwayI'm skinny yeah, weighin' 'bout 155But believe I could tote a chopper, believe bitches could dieNow play with the man, full of that dope with a K in his handDon't want hear what'cha sayin' just don't be here when I sprayin'How you gon' do it, we could handle that no secretBoy, I'll put some change on you head take you off the street quickLook, I got a Mack-90 that won't quitI got clique foll of some njiggaz bout that funk shitSo what you want, get you dome splitYou home hit, jeopardizedNiggaz spendin' a bin in camoflaugeI'ma top knot shot caller, from the clique CMB BallersFuckin' niggaz daughters, got my shit sittin' on BrawlersI'm mad boy, with this clique I'ma act a ass boyIt's cash boy, I don't think you could last boyI'm bout to pull some out the hall type shitSome Steven Seagal type shitSome *cgghh* knife shitDon't think you niggaz feelin' that 226Behind me the crucifix, chop or get chopped, split or get splitDoogie, Lil Wayne, Lil Turk, Lil Terius, better tell 'emThese niggaz are felons, "HOT BOY" be which we yellin'Right know you close to the devil, and your lip gon' get you hurtPicture this, three ways gon' tear up your turf

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B.G.

6 Figure (featuring Hot Boys)

Текст песни B.G. - 6 Figure (featuring Hot Boys)

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